


Valentine's Day Special

by YouRunWithTheWolves



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cute, Kissing, M/M, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 10:34:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1185244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YouRunWithTheWolves/pseuds/YouRunWithTheWolves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is absolutely okay with spending the night of the 14th of February with a full bag of Cheetos and his TV remote, but Scott has other plans for him that involve wearing pants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Valentine's Day Special

“So, what are your plans for Valentine’s Day, loverboy?” Stiles asks, glaring at his overstuffed burger, trying to figure out the best way to take a bite out of it without making all its contents fall out.

 

“You know, nothing much. Kira’s coming over. We’ll have dinner with my mom and then we’ll hang out. Nothing too wild. We’re staying in,” Scott replies, licking his lips after having magically figured out how to angle his jaw for maximum burger enjoyment.

 

“Yeah, ‘staying in’ is code for ‘marathon sex’.”

 

Stiles picks two french fries from his plate, stalling for time before trying the giant monstrosity of a burger.

 

“What?” Scott shakes his head, leaning back in his seat. “Nah, man. It’s a full moon tonight, I don’t want to risk it. I know my control is good, but… I just want to be safe.”

 

Stiles twists his face in an incredulous pout. “You’re scared of turning furry in bed? But you told me she liked it. In great detail, should I add. Seriously dude, I know a lot about your dick, we should be worried.”

 

Scott face turns an interesting shade of pink, pursing his lips in a way that means he’s trying not to smile. He fiddles with the straw of his drink nervously.

 

“She does like it,” he admits, his eyes going a little hazy, before he shakes himself. He snaps his attention back to Stiles and adds, in a lower voice, “But it doesn’t mean I want to lose control tonight. All the other times it happened, I wanted it and she wanted it. I don’t want to accidentally bite her butt or _worse_. I want to be myself.”

 

“Fair enough,” Stiles says, shrugging, trying real hard not to look guilty about momentarily picturing Kira’s butt in his mind.

 

“What about you? I know you’re not seeing anyone, but you could still do something. It’s just a stupid day.”

 

“I don’t know, it seems like the whole pack is busy. Just me and my hand, tonight.”

 

Scott isn’t even fazed. “At least you won’t be disappointed,” he says, finishing his burger with a huge final bite. “Why don’t you ask Lydia? She told me she wasn’t planning on doing anything.”

 

“Oh come on, if I ask her out on Valentine’s Day, she’ll get the wrong idea, for sure.”

 

“Maybe suggest doing something really not sexy.”

 

“Everything is sexy when you do it with Lydia,” Stiles says, nodding decisively.

 

He scratches the back of his head, his face scrunching up in thought. Allison is in France, Isaac is out of town, visiting and trying to reconnect with some relatives, and Derek…

 

Right on cue, Scott exclaims, “What about Derek?”

 

“I don’t know anyone named Derek, I don’t know who you’re talking about,” Stiles says, trying his best innocent smile.

 

“Funny you should say that. Derek said the exact same thing about you.”

 

Stiles startles and gawks, feeling the color fill up his face. He’s trying not to look too offended because he doesn’t care at all. Still, he’s embarrassed.

 

“You did not ask Derek Hale to take me out on Valentine’s Day, did you?” he hisses, food forgotten on the table.

 

“He’s picking you up at 10. Wear pants, okay?”

 

*

 

“Derek.”

 

“Stiles.”

 

“Derek.”

 

Derek rolls his eyes and Stiles feels a sick sort of satisfaction at having already annoyed him. Under five seconds. That’s a record.

 

“Come in, I guess,” Stiles says, stepping aside to let him pass.

 

Derek only hesitates for a second before crossing the threshold, but he glares at Stiles menacingly as he passes him, almost bumping his shoulder on his way in. Stiles glares right back, but he can’t help but notice--begrudgingly--that he smells really good. He takes a step back to avoid any more accidental smelling.

 

He’s wearing a white t-shirt and dark jeans. Stiles swallows thickly when he realizes he’s noticing Derek’s choice of clothing. It’s just a white t-shirt. It’s just jeans. Who the hell cares? Not him.

 

“So, I don’t know what Scott told you exactly, but I wasn’t gonna do anything but stay in and watch some TV, so--” Stiles begins, closing the door behind him.

 

“Porn, you mean,” Derek interrupts, looking around with an air of polite interest, as though he’s never been in Stiles’ house before.

 

“Some _television_ ,” Stiles goes on, gritting the words out viciously, “so unless you got something better in store for us, I’m gonna do just that. You’re free to stay, but don’t expect me to acknowledge your presence or anything.”

 

“Where’s your dad?”

 

Stiles balks a bit, thrown off by the sudden change of topic. They’re still aggressively standing in the hallway, staring suspiciously at each other like a couple of angry cats.

 

“He’s at the station until 10.30, then he’s going out with Scott’s mom,” Stiles replies.

 

Derek nods but doesn’t say anything. Stiles doesn’t say anything either to see how long it takes for Derek to feel uncomfortable. He’s frustrated to find out it takes a long time. A very long time.

 

Unable to stand the awkward silence any more, Stiles clears his throat. “So, this night is off to a _great_ start. You can--”

 

“Let’s go to a movie,” Derek says, and walks right back out the door, as if the matter’s been settled.

 

Stiles squawks indignantly, but by some sort of weird succession of events, finds himself sitting in Derek’s car anyway.

 

“I’ll choose the movie,” he declares firmly, and is only a little disappointed when Derek doesn’t argue with him. “So, full moon tonight, huh?”

 

Derek grunts, faking concentration on his driving.

 

“Scott was worried.”

 

“He’ll be fine,” Derek says simply. “We’re just a little more--vulnerable. Nothing an experienced werewolf can’t handle.”

 

“Vulnerable? But I thought it was the opposite.”

 

“We’re stronger, we feel the pull of the moon a little bit more, yes. We’re just more likely to… do things. On impulse. You know, vulnerable. As in, unguarded.”

 

Stiles widens his eyes a little bit. “Yeah I can see that. You just said more than three consecutive words! Unguarded Derek is a talker.”

 

Derek grunts again.

 

*

 

“Hi, two tickets for--”

 

“I’m so sorry, but everything is full,” the employee behind the ticket booth interrupts with an apologetic smile. Her name tag announces cheerily that she’s called Maria.

 

“What?” Stiles asks, widening his eyes incredulously. “It’s Valentine’s Day, isn’t everyone having sex somewhere? What are they doing at the movies?”

 

“Maybe they’re having an orgy, in there,” Derek suggests calmly.

 

Maria giggles helplessly and Derek looks smug. Stiles just makes a face at him, because that wasn’t even funny.

 

“I do have a lot of free seats for the next showing of this movie,” she says, her smile more confident. “But I doubt you’ll be interested in it.”

 

She’s pointing at one of the movie posters on the wall, under a sign saying “NOW SHOWING”. There’s a girl in the middle, with a heavily photoshopped background of snowy mountains. She looks mildly scared, Stiles thinks, with her mouth half-open and her hair blowing in the wind. Behind her is a broody looking dude, looking at her creepily, in a simple black t-shirt when it’s clearly snowing.

 

“No,” Derek says immediately.

 

“It’s a teen flick,” she says, shrugging as though she understands why they wouldn’t touch that with a ten-foot pole. “It’s about a werewolf and--”

 

“Werewolf?” Stiles crows, turning on his heels to look at Derek. “Come on, dude, it’s gonna be hilarious.”

 

Derek looks unconvinced.

 

“Cough up the cash, Derek. I want to see this one,” Stiles insists, knowing full well Derek doesn’t have a lot of leeway when the employee is still looking at them curiously, expectantly, politely.

 

Maria’s smiling shyly when Derek angrily shoves a few dollar bills at her, sighing heavily. “The movie starts in ten. We’re having a Valentine’s Day special, so you can pick any snack from the lower shelf.”

 

“We’re not--” Stiles begins to say, feeling hotter than he did a second ago, before clearing his throat.

 

She looks as red as he feels and she fumbles a little with their tickets. “Oh, um. It’s just--it’s not--you don’t _have_ to be a--a couple. It’s just--for two purchased tickets, you get a snack. That’s all. I didn’t mean--”

 

Derek takes pity on her and picks something at random, thanking her with a smile that turns her nervous babbling into stunned--and aroused, Stiles can see the change in her eyes--silence.

 

They’re making their way through the complex when Stiles judges they’re far enough from the paying desk to shove at Derek’s shoulder.

 

“You have _got_ to stop doing that,” he says, still reeling from the embarrassment.

 

Derek looks mildly confused. “Doing what?”

 

“The thing where you do your thing and then things happen.”

 

“Eloquent,” Derek mocks, shouldering his way in the dark theater.

 

It’s empty. Stiles doesn’t know whether to feel relieved he won’t meet anyone he knows, or nervous at the idea of sitting in the dark next to Derek while watching teenagers--one of them a werewolf--flirt awkwardly for an hour and a half.

 

“But you do! You kind of--blast your attractiveness at them and they melt. I’ve seen it happen. It’s fucking annoying.”

 

Derek frowns and doesn’t meet Stiles’s eyes. “I don’t--where do you want to sit?”

 

“Middle.”

 

The lights dim, and the first ads appear on the big screen. They settle down and after a long moment, Derek crosses his arms defensively at literally nothing.

 

“Attractiveness?” he demands, scowling.

 

“Stop fishing for compliments, dude.”

 

Derek scowls even more.

 

“You’re kind of okay-looking, I guess,” Stiles concedes, unable to let something go.

 

“You say the sweetest things.”

 

“You smell good.”

 

At that, Derek twists around in his seat to stare at him. Stiles keeps his eyes fixed on the screen, but he can guess Derek’s trying to see if Stiles is mocking him or not.

 

“That’s--”

 

“You can read… and write. That’s always good.”

 

“Fuck you,” Derek snorts, settling back to stare at the screen too.

 

“Your fashion sense is not exactly perfect but I think it works for you.”

 

“Alright, I get it. I won’t ask stupid questions. Shut up,” Derek mumbles.

 

“Your handwriting is really delicate. Like an eighteenth-century French poet.”

 

“What--”

 

Stiles has never seen Derek so flustered in his life and it’s weirdly empowering.

 

“Your voice is the least threatening thing I’ve ever heard,” he goes on, distantly aware that he’s lost the point of this a while ago and he’s now just listing things about Derek.

 

Derek lets his eyes glow bright blue for a second before a low growl makes his way out of his throat. Stiles’s heart beats faster. He taps Derek’s chest twice, as if he isn’t utterly terrified Derek will bite his fingers off.

 

“Yeah, yeah, buddy,” he whispers. “Really scary.”

 

“Are you done?”

 

“If you hand me my valentine snack, I’ll shut up.”

 

“I picked it, it’s mine”, Derek mutters just as the opening credits start. They’re still the only ones in the theater.

 

Stiles can’t contain his snort of laughter.

 

*

 

Within the first ten minutes of the movie, Stiles decides it’s boring and keeps up a steady commentary to pass the time. Derek shushes him twice, but gives up pretty early on. When the male protagonist appears, Stiles makes a point of comparing his everything to Derek.

 

“His glare lacks the proper amount of irritation. Yours is like, pretty wow. But he’s younger, so he looks way more approachable, and less suspicious. Speaking of suspicious, I heard you were at the highschool again, last week? What the fuck, Derek, you’re gonna get arrested some day. Anyway, don’t worry, your abs are way more defined than his. You’re bilingual and he’s not. Ah-ha, tough choice.”

 

Stiles sneakily pats Derek’s stomach to find the chocolate bar he was refused moments earlier. Derek doesn’t react, other than bunching up his muscles reflexively when Stiles pokes him too hard.

 

“His wolf form is like, way cooler though. Can you shift into a full wolf?”

 

“I might have, when I was an alpha. My mom could do it. Now, I’m not so sure anymore.”

 

Stiles smiles. “Okay, cool,” he says, knowing better than to push the matter. He’s already secretly pleased Derek answered at all.

 

He sighs, waving an annoyed hand at the screen. “Oh my God, are they really making out already? They’ve only known each other for two days! Ugh, that kiss looks weird. She’s probably choking.”

 

“Says the expert,” Derek pipes up.

 

“Scott says I’m a good kisser.”

 

“Scott says many things to shut you up.”

 

“Oh yeah?”

 

They’re steadily getting louder and louder. It’s lucky they’re alone.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“You--he--I don’t--,” Stiles stammers, fumbling with his thoughts. “I can totally prove it to you.”

 

Stiles knows that’s probably the most childish thing he’s ever said. Derek smirks derisively, as though Stiles actually being a good kisser is amusing, like he’s already won the argument or something. Stiles feels a rush of “whooaaaa, you asked for it, motherfucker” surge through him.

 

On the screen, the snowy mountains are back, the sappy music too. Stiles throws his half-eaten candy bar aside, angles his body toward Derek, and nudges him to get his attention--which he’s pretty sure he already has, judging by Derek’s frown.

 

“No, no. Come on. I can put my money where my mouth is. Kiss me.”

 

“Stiles, don’t be ridi--”

 

“I’m serious, I will blow--” Derek looks fucking panicked for a second, and Stiles pauses, relishing in that feeling he gets when he’s dominating a conversation with Derek. “--your mind,” he finishes flatly.

 

Derek heaves a big sigh, and tries to turn back to the screen. But Stiles is holding on his shirt, and he tugs it toward him, making Derek sway into his space.

 

“Come on, Derek,” he says, and his voice is a little bit hoarse, and he’s not so sure what he’s doing this for anymore.

 

“God, you’re so fucking weird, you’re going to taste like cheap chocolate,” Derek mutters, before sealing his lips over Stiles’s.

 

At first, Stiles doesn’t think anything but a steady string of “yes yes yes yes.” He watches Derek close his eyes, then he remembers he’s supposed to show Derek how it’s done, and he tilts his head to the left, crowding into his space, opening his mouth and grazing his teeth lightly against Derek’s bottom lip.

 

It’s only when Derek’s mouth drops open in response that Stiles closes his eyes too, and he’s a little surprised to feel Derek’s tongue right away, like he’s meeting him halfway, like he’s not just sitting here, suffering through it, but like he wants it.

 

It’s a little chilly in the theater, so Derek’s mouth feels hot and burning, heat curling around his lips and his tongue, and Stiles can’t help help but seek a little bit more of it: their lips slide and close around each other again, and again. And again. He can feel Derek’s stubble against his cheek and it doesn’t really hurt, it’s pretty soft and--Stiles sighs, right into Derek’s mouth, turning his head away slightly to get some air.

 

He takes back the sneaky hand that’s wormed its way against Derek’s neck and settles back in his seat. Derek does the same. They don’t say anything for the rest of the movie.

 

*

 

“How awful was it?” Maria asks when they come back out, forced to pass in front of her again.

 

Stiles nervously scratches his neck, looking anywhere but at Derek’s face.

 

“It was good,” Derek replies softly.

 

Stiles frowns because he can’t even remember what happened after he and Derek kissed. It was like watching static on a big silver screen.

 

“Was it?” he asks.

 

“Yeah. There was one part in the middle I really liked,” Derek insists, shrugging.

 

“The make-out scene,” Maria nods solemnly. “Pretty hot huh? I mean, whatever.”

 

“I don’t know, what did you think, Stiles?” Derek asks, turning to him with an eyebrow raised, all serious and shit.

 

“What the--? I don’t-- _ah_. The _make-out_ scene. Like, when they kiss and um. Yeah. Yes. Good. I mean. It was. Just--you know. _Whatever_. I’d like to, maybe, do it-- _see it!_ … again. I guess.”

 

Derek is blushing and Maria is looking at him like he’s crazy. “Um, okay. Well,” she says before laughing nervously. “Glad you enjoyed it, have a good night?”

 

“Yes! You too, um, Maria. Thanks. For. For that. For the movie. Let’s go, Derek. We have to get some--get _home!_ We have to get home,” he stutters out, making his way to the parking lot.

 

Derek follows more calmly. They stand next to the car without getting in.

 

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Derek finally says.

 

“You too, man.”

 

“Should I take you home?”

 

Stiles studies Derek for a few seconds, takes in the earnest way he’s holding himself, the small smile tugging at his lips, the nervous way his hands are twisting the cuffs of his leather jacket.

 

“No, let’s go back to your place.”

 

Derek looks surprised. “I don’t have a PS3, or booze, or anything,” he warns.

 

“I know dude, I’m trying to be flirty or something. I have no idea how to do this.”

 

Derek laughs a little. “Can we kiss again?” he asks, and Stiles’s heart grows three sizes big when he hears how shy he sounds.

 

“Am I really that good?” Stiles jokes, feeling a little shaken.

 

“Yes.”

 

*

 

“How was your date with Derek?” Scott asks the next morning over the phone.

 

Stiles squeezes his eyes shut when he hears Scott’s tone of voice. He throws the sheets over his face with an embarrassed groan. “You planned this, didn’t you? You knew this would happen.”

 

“I don’t know, what happened?” Scott asks innocently.

 

“Don’t be smart with me Scotty, I--” Stiles replies immediately, ready to go on the most epic rant.

 

Of course, Derek ruins it. He turns to face Stiles on the bed and wrestles the phone out of his hand easily, with a sort of quiet fury.

 

“We had sex, it was great, fuck off,” he calmly enunciates into the receiver with a cute little sleepy voice, before hanging up and dropping his face back into his pillow.

 

“Ooh, not a morning person.”

 

Stiles smirks and worms his way under Derek’s arm. He falls back asleep, his face mashed against his collarbone.

**Author's Note:**

> [hi](http://yourunwiththewolves.tumblr.com).


End file.
